Fresh morning air has a very distinctive taste. Cool, crisp, and sweet. But on this particular morning, that signature aura was disturbed. On this morning, a bitter, slightly burnt smell rode on the wind, the aroma of smoke and fire. Ashes floated in the sky, barely discernible against a charcoal sky.

The Toa slid his tongue along his his teeth, trying to scrape the horrible taste and grey particles off of his teeth. He clutched the hilt of his blade, it's brown leather grip a warm, soothing familiarity in his hand. It was the only comfort he could gain in this place of dark skies and cold. As he walked on, his steps unconsciously became more hurried, frantic. He The Toa felt a vying feeling in the pit of his stomach, a curdling sensation of suspicion. Of wariness. Of fear. So the figure ran. He ran, his chest screaming from internal fires, his legs throbbing and aching with the jarring of every footfall. But, he didn't stop. Not until he reached home.

His place of refuge was a run-down apartment, with charred, crumbling walls. He stepped inside the broken door, entering an intensely cluttered living space. Newspaper clippings, books, and loose sheets of paper were stacked on every possible surface, even pinned on the walls in a frenzied sort of collage. The Toa dropped his work bag and belt down on a crowded desk. The Toa groaned as he bent down into a fragile-looking chair, trying to rub the pain from his legs and knees as he sat. His heart rate had begun to slow itself, and the searing pain near his heart had subsided. The Toa extended a hand, and hit the power button on a telepanel, which flickered into life. A news report blared forth.

--religious historian, and curator of the Iharu Museum, Dr. Kur Hekita, was murdered today, in what is now being called by authorities an assassination. Dr. Hekita was making a presentation on recent finding pertaining to the Ancients in Zohara Park, when he was shot twice in the chest. The Sect has announced their responsibility for the killing.

And in related news! Rioting has hit downtown since Dr. Hekita's murder. Angered members of the famed scientific community, the Church of the Ancient, and even ordinary citizens have taken to the streets, causing upwards of two million widgets in property damage, as well as completely demolishing the city's police headquarters. Casualties on both civilian and police sides are recorded to be in the high thirties at--

The Toa flicked the telepanel off. The newscast was burned into his head, searing like a branding iron. He groaned at the clamor of thoughts as he rifled through the chaotic jumble of books thrown upon his desk. His fingers worked like a finely-tuned machine, hitting their marks dead-on; as dead-on as the Sect assassins struck down Dr. Hekita. His thumb suddenly stopped, halting the flurry of books on a specific page. His eyes poured the quote over. Sect. Insurgence. Seal. Arma--. He stopped, taking a step back. His bottom found it's way to the chair. He buried his head in his hands. His shoulders heaved and rocked like a great tidal wave. He sobbed. We're all dead...

“And so it shall be, in the wake of insurgence, the first Seal shall be broken, and the onset of Armageddon shalt be upon you all.”

-Divinations, Chapter XII, Verse VI